


Come What May

by fanoftheknight



Series: A Knight For The Seven Kingdoms [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Babies and Fluff, Brooding men, F/M, Fluff, GreyDei babies, Jorleesi babies - Freeform, Name day parties, all fluffage, no roughage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23409607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanoftheknight/pseuds/fanoftheknight
Summary: Some bonds can never be broken...
Relationships: Grey Worm/Missandei, Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: A Knight For The Seven Kingdoms [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596802
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30





	Come What May

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salzrand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salzrand/gifts).



> This is a one-shot set roughly four years after the events of The King of Wishful Thinking and is dedicated to the awesome Salzrand as she asked for another piece of Grey Worm/Jorah bromance.
> 
> Special thanks as always to SlytherinHowl for the beta read and obliterating my past-perfects!
> 
> I'm not sure what the 'ship name for Grey Worm and Missandei is so I've just tagged it as 'GreyDei' for now...

“Your Graces,” Missandei said, holding the door open for Jorah, Daenerys and their two youngest children. “We are so glad that you could make it.”

“Please, Missandei,” Jorah replied, “there is no need for formalities in such a setting.”

Truth be told, although it had been four years since Jorah’s coronation as King of Westeros, it was still a title that he felt more than a little uncomfortable about. While he shared equal power with Daenerys, the weight of expectation and the fear of repeating his previous mistakes when Lord of Bear Island was almost too much at times. It would be then that Daenerys would kiss him into submission and remind him about just the type of man she had married.

Despite all of his wife’s coaxing and the love of the people of Westeros, Jorah was still the same stubborn old bear that he’d always been, too quick to see his own faults while forgiving those of others, never more so when Daenerys took a leave from her royal duties to give birth to a second set of twins, Jeorge and Anabaella, who they named after Jorah’s own parents.

Rearranging the weight of his two youngest children as they perched in his arms, Jorah followed Missandei to the room where her own children and those of the Tarly family were happily playing parlour games.

Rhaena and Aeron were already in attendance, now seven years old and growing taller each day. The two of them were still as thick as thieves with Lana Tarly and her younger brother Jon, who was almost the same age as the twins were.

Jorah cast his eye over the sheer amount of food and gifts that covered the table. The children would likely not eat for a week if they consumed only half the food available to them.

Smiling at his wife, Jorah placed Jeorge and Anabaella on the floor and nodded to them as they look at him questioningly. “We’ll be right here,” he reassured his youngest son who was by far the shyest of the children but could always be coaxed to play by Roary, one of the three children adopted by Missandei and Grey Worm when they were barely more than newborns.

“Ser Jorah!” Lana Tarly said excitedly as her eyes fell upon him.

He returned her smile with one of his own as she raced towards him and threw her arms around his waist. Rhaena and Aeron looked up from the game they were playing and rolled their eyes at their friend, clearly used to the way the Tarly girl idolised their father.

It had been hard for many people to break the habit of calling Jorah ‘Ser’ after his ascendance to the throne and even more so for a young child like Lana. The less people called him ‘Your Grace’ the better, as far as Jorah was concerned.

After accepting the child’s embrace, he took a step back and placed his hands on Lana’s shoulders. “You grow taller and more radiant every day, my lady,” he said with a smile. “Soon you will be taller than I.”

Lana blushed, hiding her face behind her hands for a moment before running back over to the two eldest Mormont children.

“I think she may have a crush on you,” Daenerys said with a wry smile as her husband fidgeted in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“Khaleesi,” he said, his voice strained. “That is clearly not the case.”

Daenerys looped her arm through Jorah’s, resting her head on his shoulder. “You set the hearts of many a maiden aflutter,” she said, letting out a laugh as she heard her husband groan. “It’s a good job you have a Kingsguard to protect you from all the women falling at your feet. I would hate for your heart to be stolen by a maiden much fairer and younger than I.”

Jorah kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek there. “There has only ever been one fair maiden and she stole my heart many years ago. I only have eyes for her.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Daenerys replied. “I would hate to have to kill every women who dared to set their eyes on you. There would be no one left to rule over.”

Her words were playful but Jorah knew without a doubt that Daenerys would strike down anyone who threatened her place in his heart, for he would do the same for her.

“You have my heart, my love, my loyalty…there will never be anyone else,” he said as Daenerys turned and looped her arms around his back, kissing him softly.

“May I get you both something to drink?” Missandei asked after clearing her throat, not wanting to interrupt the tender moment between two of her closest friends.

“That would be most kind,” Daenerys replied. “Has Rhaella enjoyed her name day so far?”

Missandei smiled shyly. “She has, Your Grace. You have both been most kind and generous with your gifts.”

“It was our pleasure,” Daenerys responded, gracefully accepting a goblet of wine.

“You have more steel than I, my lady,” Jorah replied with a rueful grin before taking a sip of his ale. “Our youngest will be three years old come the next moon. I’m not sure I have it in me to attend another children’s party quite so soon.”

“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you made me with child to twins again,” Daenerys retorted, snorting at the blush that rushed to Jorah’s cheeks. “Who knew bears could be so fertile?”

“I’ll…uh…see to the children,” he stammered, making his way over to where Grey Worm stood in the far corner of the room.

Missandei looked at her queen expectantly. “Are you with child again?” She asked with some surprise.

Daenerys shook her head. “Alas not yet, but that does not mean that I am opposed to the idea. We would be happy to have as many children as the gods see fit to give us,” she said, taking another sip of her wine. “Jorah won’t admit it, but having the little ones running around our quarters brings out the playful side in him.”

Missandei nodded her head in agreement. “I see much the same in Grey Worm. He is truly unburdened when he tends to the children. With them, he can be the child he was never able to be himself,” before adding, “yet he still sees himself as being incapable of being a good father and husband.”

Daenerys smiled conspiratorially. “It seems that we are both married to stubborn men who refuse to see what we do in them.”

“May I ask you a question, Your Grace?”

“By all means, Missandei. You may ask me anything you like.”

“Will Grey Worm ever accept that I love him for who he is, faults and all?”

Daenerys paused, realising that she would do her friend no favours should she lie to her.

“Probably not,” she replied. “But that does not mean that we don’t spend every day reminding our husbands of their worth in our life.”

* * *

Grey Worm stood straighter as he saw Jorah making his way towards him.

“Your Grace,” Grey Worm said stiffly, his spine ramrod straight as he stood before his king.

Jorah waved his hand and sighed. “At ease, soldier,” he said with a tired smile. “There is no need to be so formal, especially in your own home.”

Jorah saw Grey Worm relax ever so slightly, although to anyone else, the change in the soldier's posture would have been missed, for Jorah knew only too well the weight of expectation the man placed upon himself.

Grey Worm frowned. “It does not seem right to call my king ‘Jorah the Andal’. It is not respectful of his position and power.”

Jorah winced at his words. “It is a strange day when I prefer you calling me an Andal than I do a king,” he said wryly, taking a sip from his flagon of ale. “Mormonts are the descendants of the First Men, not the bloody Andals.” He shook his head as he took another gulp of his ale, watching the children running around gleefully. “What troubles you, Grey Worm?”

The look of surprise on the Unsullied soldier’s face again would have gone unnoticed to anyone but Jorah. Having been head of Daenerys Targaryen’s Queensguard for many years, it was Jorah’s job to pick up on the smallest of details from those around him. Despite retiring from that position, it was a habit that he would likely never break.

“King,” Grey Worm began, only to stop himself. “Jorah the Andal is mistaken. Grey Worm is not troubled,” he replied stiffly, his posture once more that of an alert solider ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice.

“You look upon your children as they play, but there is a sadness in your eyes,” Jorah observed. “I spent years trying to hide my feelings for the woman I loved…I chose each word I said carefully, made sure my actions were that of a noble knight and nothing more…and yet…one look in my eyes and people knew. You can dress yourself in the toughest armour but you will never be able to protect your heart, no matter how hard you try.”

Grey Worm considered his words, waging an internal war as to whether he should voice his fears to the older man.

“Having the children has made Missandei happy,” Grey Worm began, his eyes still on the innocent children playing on the floor in front of him. “It makes me happy to know that we care for the children, that we teach them as they grow…” Grey Worm trailed off.

“And yet?” Jorah prompted.

“Our children grow and ask questions. They are learning new things each day and I know that one day…the children will ask why our skin is not the same colour as theirs. The children will know that we are not their true parents. I worry for Missandei that the children will ask questions that hurt her, they will ask why she is not their real mother.”

“I see,” Jorah said after a pause.

“I do not know what to say to make Missandei feel better.”

Jorah stroked his beard absentmindedly as he watched the children play. They were still all so innocent and unaware of the harsh realities of life and Jorah knew he would want to protect his own children from it just as much as Grey Worm wanted to protect his own.

“Any man can father a child,” Jorah replied. “Not every man can care for and raise that child. Most are not fit enough to even try. You are worried that the children will not see you as their parent as they grow older?”

Grey Worm nodded his head. “I do not know how to express love in the way Missandei does. I fear that our children will think I do not care for them.”

Jorah knew only too well that nagging sense of self-doubt. From the moment Rhaena and Aeron were born, he had feared that he would turn out to repeat his own father’s mistakes. He had made so many of his own already and the fear of failing his children still ate away at him, even now. What if he said or did the wrong thing - would the children still know that he loved them and that he would protect them with his life?

“We are men and stubborn ones at that,” Jorah replied after a while. “Yet it is clear to me when I see you with your children that you love them as if they were of your own blood. No one could ever doubt that, especially your children. They are more intuitive than we give them credit for - they know that you love them even if you and I struggle to find the words to tell them as much.”

“Jorah the Andal is much wiser than I,” Grey Worm remarked.

Jorah let out a humourless laugh. “Perhaps it is a wisdom born of making too many grievous mistakes. Bitter experience makes for a wise teacher.”

“How do you do it?” Grey Worm asked. “I want to protect my children from all things. I want to keep them safe but I cannot stop them from growing up. What happens when they think they no longer need Missandei and I?”

Jorah stroked his beard in contemplation, a small smile tugging at his lips. “There will never be a day when they don’t need you. Even when we are old and wizened and our children are fully grown… Some bonds can never be undone no matter the passing of time. When their hearts are broken, the only love that will heal them is that of their parents...the only unconditional love they have ever known.”

“What if I cannot show that love?” Grey Worm asked.

Jorah smiled, looking at his friend now. “You already do. Your children adore you. They may not realise it now, but they know that you would do anything for them…that you would give your life for theirs.”

“But what if I make a mistake?”

“None of us are perfect, Grey Worm,” Jorah replied. “There is no handbook on how to be a good parent…we will make mistakes, it is inevitable.”

“Then what do we do?” Grey Worm asked.

“We do our best and hope that it is enough.”

“What if it is not enough?”

“We learn from our mistakes and try again,” Jorah replied. “We will stumble and fall but our children will know that we never gave up…that we never wavered in trying to be a better man than the one we were before. When the world falls down around them they will know that, through it all, they were loved…that they were enough even if we were not.”

For some, the road to acceptance would forever be paved with heartbreak and sorrow, the gaping holes enough to swallow a man whole in his misery and self-pity. It would be a path littered with past mistakes, with regrets that threatened to trip a man and bring him to his knees. Though fraught with danger, Jorah would make that journey because he knew he that he simply had no other choice. 

Redemption was not given, it was earned by walking a lonely road of shame in an attempt to atone for one’s past transgressions and Jorah would travel that road for the rest of his days, but perhaps love would be enough through it all. 

That and the hope that _he_ would be enough for the people he loved.


End file.
